How You Remind Me
by Crowes-Gal
Summary: Warrick deals with what could have been, and what could be


CSI and all its characters belong to CBS, Alliance Atlantis, and Anthony Zuiker. I'm not trying to make any money off of them; but feedback, good or bad, is always welcome. Drea, Aaron Christopher Brown, Portland, Tony, Jeremy, and Dr. Litt are all my characters. Ask me if you want to use them, okay? I might just say yes. Jana Stevens is the property of Kyrdwyn, and is used here with her gracious permission. Her stuff can be found over at http://www.geocities.com/toxicrev. The song is "How You Remind Me" by Nickelback, off of their Silver Side Up album. They kick butt!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
Never made it as a wise man,   
Couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing   
Tired of livin like a blind man   
Sick of sight without a sense of feeling   
And this is how you remind me   
This is how you remind me   
Of what I really am  
  
  
  
Warrick didn't expect to see Portland as he walked out to the Tahoe. "Hey, stranger. What are you doing here?" he said loud enough to get her attention. Portland was Drea's sister, and he and Drea had split up almost two months ago. Even though the split had been his fault, Portland had chosen to remain friends with him.   
  
"Hey yourself. I need to talk to you." Portland had a grim look on her face, and she sighed heavily. "Drea's started drinking again." br  
  
Unhappy to hear this, but not too surprised, Warrick nodded. "I wondered how long it would be." He shook his head. Feeling as if it was all his fault, Warrick wondered if he should offer to help. "Is there anything I can do?"   
  
Portland shrugged. "You were the only one who was able to get through to her last time. I don't know how she'll react to you now, though."   
  
"Get in, I was just going to get some food. We can talk more on the way." He unlocked the door and held it for her as she climbed in the truck. Warrick let out a deep sigh as he walked around to the driver's side and hopped in. "So, what's the scoop? Is it just the drink, or other stuff too?" Putting the key in the ignition, he dropped the Tahoe into reverse and pulled out of the lot.   
  
  
  
It's not like you to say sorry   
I was waiting on a different story   
This time I'm mistaken   
For handing you a heart worth breakin'   
I've been wrong, I've been down   
Been to the bottom of every bottle   
These five words in my head   
Scream "Are we having fun yet?"   
Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no   
  
  
  
Drea heard a knock on her door somewhere from inside her state of semi-consciousness. She threw a pillow at the door to her bedroom. "Go away!" The knocking would not cease. Knowing that she would need to answer the door to get who ever it was to leave, she crawled out of her bed, wrapping the sheet around her. Half walking, half stumbling, she made it to the front door of her apartment after walking into 2 chairs and a sofa table. "Whozzit? Whaddyawant?" she hollered at the closed door, grabbing her head in the process.   
  
"Dee, open the door," she heard a hauntingly familiar voice say. Practically ripping the door off the hinges as she opened it, Drea glared at Warrick as he stood outside in the bright sunlight.   
  
"What the hell do you want? You know, you have some nerve coming to my house at this godforsaken hour in the morning. I should call the police and have you arrested for stalking or something." Drea was fuming. She couldn't believe that Warrick had the audacity to stop by. "Well?" She grabbed her head again, wincing in pain.   
  
He asked if he could come in, and she just walked away from the door, leaving it open. Closing it behind him, he followed her into her apartment. He knew his way around her apartment like the back of his hand. Nothing had changed in the last few months, with the exception of her kitchen. There were empty bottles of Macallan's 25-year old scotch lining the countertop. "Nice to see that you haven't lost your taste for the good stuff," Warrick said to her retreating form. Shaking his head, he went into her bedroom and sat down on the edge of her bed. "So, what's with the binge? Portland came to see me last night. She's pretty worried about you, you know."   
  
Drea's head was buried under a pillow, and she was trying to ignore him. "What do you care, Rick?" was her muffled response. "Oh, or do you care like you did when you slept with those other women?" She pulled the covers up over her head and held them tighter as he tried to pull them away. "Leave me the hell alone! I'll be fine." She rolled away from him and faced the window.   
  
Tugging on the sheets, Warrick managed to pull her towards him even though she still refused to look at him. "Drea, I'm worried about you. I don't like seeing you like this. It's 4:30 in the afternoon, and you're still in bed. You haven't been to work in a week. Your sister came to see me because you wont listen to her, your brother, or your parents. What's going on?" He scooted closer to her on the bed, a position he was accustomed to. "Come on, honey, talk to me."   
  
Sitting up, she spun around and slapped him hard, across the face. "DON'T call me honey. You lost that right." Furiously, she stared at him. "Why do you care, Warrick? Do you feel guilty? Is that why you're here? Is it because of the way you left things? Well, let me tell you something. I DON'T CARE ANYMORE." Tears started to spill down her cheeks as she yelled at him. "I don't care about you, I don't care about the other women, I don't care about the ba…" Drea's voice trailed off suddenly.   
  
"The what? Were you pregnant, Dee?" Warrick was almost in a state of shock. She had been carrying his child. What had happened, he wondered to himself. "Dee, please tell me," he said softly as he reached over to wipe her cheeks.   
  
Sniffing indignantly, she sat up straight. "I said I don't care about the baby. I can raise it on my own." Staring into his eyes, Drea suddenly felt more empowered. "Yes, Warrick, it's yours. No, there's no doubt in my mind. I'm sure I want to have it."   
  
His eyes ran over her face, down her torso to her stomach. His baby, his child was in there. A new life, created partly by him, was going to be born. She did not want him around. "If you knew you were pregnant, then why did you start drinking again?" He hoped that he would be able to make some vague sense of her reasoning.   
  
Shaking her head, she stared at him, amazed. "I'm a Trauma Nurse, Warrick. Do you honestly think that I am dumb enough to start drinking again, knowing that I have a life growing inside of me? I haven't been to work in a week because I've had insane morning sickness. I don't know why they call it that, though, when it lasts all day. And night." Drea shuddered. "You're wondering about the bottles in the kitchen, right?" He nodded. "Tony came over last night. Something about he and Jeremy broke up and he just wanted to forget everything. I had some Scotch in the bar, and I told him to have at it."   
  
He immediately felt bad about assuming that she had been the one drinking, but he came over believing what Portland had told him. "Doesn't Portland know? Does anyone?" Warrick couldn't believe that she wouldn't tell her own sister. They were 26 minutes apart, and even though they didn't look alike, the two of them were similar in many ways.   
  
Drea shook her head. "The only one who knows besides us is my doctor. I thought I had the flu, but then I was late. I called him and he told me to come in. We did the tests, he did an ultrasound, and confirmed that I'm 3 months pregnant." She sighed, and reached for the bottle of water on her nightstand. Taking a swig, she looked at Warrick. "You know, this is the only thing that kept me sane when I found out."   
  
He knew she was referring to the other women he had been with while they had been together. Drea found out when he met her for dinner one night before work. He had gone to the men's room, leaving his cell phone on the table. When it rang, she answered it, assuming that it would be either Grissom or Catherine, asking him to come in early. There had been a woman's voice on the line, but it wasn't one she recognized. "Who is this?" she had asked, innocently. The voice on the other end demanded to know who she was. Drea, his girlfriend, she had answered. The other woman immediately hung up on her, and she waited until they were in the car to ask him. He told her that it was just a friend, but Drea didn't believe him. The next day, she called Jana Stevens-Grissom, who was a private investigator. She also happened to be his boss' wife. Jana was reluctant to take the case at first, since she feared that there might be a conflict of interest. Drea had practically begged her, since she had to know the truth.   
  
Jana had called her a week later and set up a meeting. They had coffee, and Jana handed over a thick file. "You're not going to like what's in there, Dee," she had tried to warn her friend. Drea looked over the information within, and paid the tab, thanking Jana.   
  
Driving straight to Warrick's apartment, she let herself in with her key. Walking into his bedroom, she wasn't surprised to see a leggy brunette lying on his chest. Drea threw the folder at him, and it landed next to his head. The last thing he had seen was her, walking out of his apartment, and his life, for what he believed to be forever.   
  
  
  
It's not like you didn't know that   
I said I love you and I swear I still do   
It must have been so bad   
Cause livin' with me must have damn near killed you   
This is how you remind me   
Of what I really am   
This is how you remind me   
Of what I really am   
  
  
  
Drea had agreed to let him come by the next morning after he got off work. He was sitting in the breakroom staring at some case files that he was supposed to be working on. Grissom came in and asked him a question, snapping him out of his fog. "Warrick, I asked you a question. Are you ok?" Grissom came in and sat down across the table from him.   
  
He looked up and shrugged. "She's pregnant, man."   
  
It took Grissom a minute to realize just who it was that Warrick was talking about. "Drea? Are you sure?" he asked with a note of concern in his voice. "What are you going to do?"   
  
"I'm gonna be a dad, Gris. That's what I'm gonna do." Warrick still seemed to be in a bit of a fog.   
  
Sara walked in and asked, "Who's gonna be a dad?"   
  
Warrick smiled at her and told her he was. The rest of the shift seemed to fly by, and when 8:00 came, he jumped in the Tahoe and headed straight over to Drea's apartment. He was determined to let her know that he had changed, and find out if she was willing to take him back. He wanted nothing more than to be with her and watch them grow as a family. More nervous than he had been in years, he knocked on the door.  
  
  
  
It's not like you to say sorry   
I was waiting on a different story   
This time I'm mistaken   
For handing you a heart worth breakin'   
I've been wrong, I've been down   
Been to the bottom of every bottle   
These five words in my head   
Scream "Are we having fun yet?"   
Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no   
  
  
  
Five and a half months later, he was standing next to her in the delivery room. She grabbed his hand as she screamed in pain with the contraction. "That's it, Drea. One more good push and he should be out," Dr. Litt said.   
  
"You're doing great, Dee." Warrick looked down at her as he wiped her forehead with a damp towel. Her epidural had worn off, and they hadn't wanted to give her another dose so close to her delivering. They both knew she was strong, but she was in serious pain right now. Her contractions had been so strong before they gave her the epidural that her body was fighting them. Leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead.   
  
Drea looked up at him with a murderous look in her eyes. "I swear to God, Warrick, if we do this again, YOU'RE the one who's having it," she grunted as she felt another contraction start. Warrick felt her squeeze his hand tighter than last time, and he thought he felt a finger break. With this final push, their son, Aaron Christopher Brown, joined the world. Drea started crying as Dr. Litt handed her son to her, and Warrick looked down at his wife with such joy.  
  
  
  
  
Never made is as a wise man   
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing   
And this is how you remind me   
This is how you remind me 


End file.
